Billionaire's Auction: Uncovering the BBW

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by Lara Stern




  Billionaire Auction: Seducing the BBW

  Copyright © 2014 Lara Stern

  All Rights Reserved

  Every girls fantasy: whisked off her feet by a charming billionaire. A life of luxury and excess, power and sex – to never work another day in your life.

  That’s what the illustrious Mr. Cartwright was offering to the woman of his dreams. She’s out there somewhere and he wants to find her.

  Dawn had met plenty of billionaire’s and she’s not easily impressed. More flash than substance, rich men were all the same. But she needs the job, and when she’s offered the job of organizing Cartwright’s search she eagerly accepts.

  But after thousands of women Cartwright still hasn’t found the one. Until a strange score appears in his system… Not from an applicant, but from one of his staff. Different from the other girls. Not thin, bleach blonde and smiley. Someone he never expected.

  Now they both must answer the question: What if Dawn is his perfect match?

  Uncovering the BBW

  She hastily finished her work, packed her things and started the journey across the valley. Traffic was an absolute nightmare this time of day and she flicked through the news stations impatiently as the line of red break lights in front of her grew longer.

  She didn’t want to be late. Things at work had been slow lately –not just slow, glacial – but today they had a client. A solid week’s worth of work that would keep the company floating for another month.

  But things going well meant getting there on time and after nearly an hour on the interstate that looked like less and less of a possibility. Their client was notoriously high strung. Not an asshole, like so many of the other Billionaire Playboy’s Dawn had worked for over the years, just high strung. On edge. Eager and excited, and there was a rumor that he could get a little bit annoyed when people around him couldn’t keep up with his torrent of ideas and plans.

  They were all like that, though.

  There weren’t any ordinary billionaires. At least she had never met one.

  Ordinary people just didn’t do the things necessary to rise that high, to earn that much. There was always a catch. It was usually the ego. The flashing perfect smile and that tone of voice that just screams I’m hot shit and I know it, with just a little hint of I’m better than you’ll ever be. Those guys were the worst. Dawn could remember when she first got into this business, how nervous she had been when she met the first of a long line of wealthy men. How she had stayed up for days researching his profiles and public articles, how her legs had shaken all morning and how her coffee had left her nauseous and exhausted. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

  He had been a total disappointment, of course. More flash than substance, his money a product of family connections and shady backroom deals – not innovation and diligence. But today…

  Today was different.

  She had been doing this job for 5 years now and her legs didn’t shake. She didn’t get nauseous or stay up all night like a little girl before the first day of school. She did her research and then she did her job, which was a little sad because while she didn’t know it yet, Mr. Cartwright was a genuinely intriguing man. The kind of man worth looking up to, a true Titan of the modern age who earned his station through sheer force of will and calculated consideration.

  To Dawn he would be like all the others.

  His Bio was textbook, larger than life. An array of pictures shot on ungodly cameras in exotic locations. A naked supermodel on his back windsurfing. Exotic cars, and the cheesy one of him standing on a shovel at some backwater charity event – like a man worth a little over 3 billion dollars would spend his time digging holes in the jungle. Then came the ballroom photos. Page after page of the tuxedoed man standing with celebrities and leaders.

  And handsome. Lord, why were they all handsome? With all that money she guessed any man could afford to be beautiful, but how could you explain that bone structure. Being rich couldn’t possibly change the way your face looked, could it? She laughed to herself. Well if it did that would explain Cartwright. What the money didn’t do for his face, the million dollar exercise machines must have taken care of, because he looked like he belonged on the cover of a new superhero movie, not the Forbes 500.

  He would flash his charming smile and hold her gaze just a little longer than she was used to. He would take her hand in his and then the verbal diarrhea would start to pour out. Platitudes and half-truths.

  Goddamnit.

  She slammed on her breaks and used the spare moment to fumble in her purse. She was looking for a pack of cigarettes but didn’t find any.

  By the time traffic cleared and she pulled into the massive parking lot it was nearly two.

  ***

  Meeting the man was hardly what she expected. She found him in the back of the massive convention center that would be her office for the next few days.

  He was busy, hunched over a planning table gesturing enthusiastically at something. All around him assistants worked to setup.

  Dawn stood in front of him for several moments before clearing her throat.

  “Mr. Cartwright?”

  His head shot up and he flashed a billionaire smile.

  “Yes?” he said.

  “My name is Dawn Winters, I’m with Event Solutions.”

  “Right, Dawn, sit down, please!”

  She thanked him and took a seat.

  “Ready to get to work?” he asked her.

  “Always, sir, but I have to be honest – you weren’t exactly clear what services you would be needing.”

  “I need a cupid.”

  “Er…cupid, sir?”

  “That’s right. All of this. It’s my digital cupid, and I need you to make sure it runs smoothly.”

  “I’m not exactly a matchmaker, sir.”

  “You don’t need to be. Like I said, it’s all digital. I just need you to run the crowds.”

  “How many people are we expecting. My office was unclear but someone mentioned ten thousand? Plus? That can’t be right.”

  “At least that many!” he said, enthusiastically.

  “I don’t mean to be crass, but have you tried OKCupid?”

  He laughed.

  “People can’t imagine that this life of mine could be difficult—but in ways it is. I never know people. Truly, I mean. What they want, why they’re here. When you have as much money as me everyone has an ulterior motive. A billion dollars attracts the best of the best conmen…and conwomen.” He mumbled. “I mean, if I honestly tried to sort through all my potential mates-“

  “Mates?”

  “There’s probably a better word” he added quickly “but if I actually tried… well, I might be dead before I found someone honest!”

  “What about the whole secret billionaire playboy fantasy. Every girl has it. Just don’t tell them about the money until you know they love you for you.”

  He waved his hands “I’ve tried that.”

  Dawn smiled, a look of surprised approval on her face.

  “Anyways. No. I know what I need to do. What will work.” His words came out quick

  “Here let me show you.”

  He led her past several bustling assistants and through a small blue curtain where even more kids in lab coats hovered around a table covered in laptops, desktops and cords.

  “I’ve developed an algorithm.”

  “Uh…”

  “All of my other problems can be solved by money and ingenuity? Why not this one? Why must a man who demands perfection in every part of his life settle for the common dating practices of the common man? Why must a man who can have anything in the world settle for just any w
oman.“

  Dawn didn’t answer.

  “I won’t settle” he said “I’m going to solve this part of my life once and for all, just like I’d solve any other problem. I’m advertising my eligibility and holding an event. That’s where you come in. I need your company to run that event.”

  “First the girls will be put through a proprietary screening software my company has developed. It identifies and throws out any candidates who disagree with me on key ideological and social points. Make sure they have certain features. I don’t want any cheaters or closet republicans after all! And while money isn’t an issue, I want to make sure I find someone who is independent. Who has ambitions and goals. “

  “And you can test for all that? Seems a little hopeful.”

  “Here try it out when you get a free moment” he said, casually handing her a tablet. “The second stage will be in person at the event. I will choose the girls I am attracted to, and who I see having a future will physically. Once the other girls are dismissed we will begin a brief interview where I will meet them individually and get my first impressions. You know in the first thirty seconds, Dawn. “

  There was a long pause.

  “Know what?”

  “If the person is right for you.“ He added “Hopefully that little spark will be there… one, or a few of the girls will peak my interest and I can get to know them in the future. “

  “And they can get to know you. “

  “Right, of course!” He added as if an afterthought.

  “Whelp, that’s basically it.”

  “Sounds pretty thought out.” Dawn said. “So what do I do?”

  “I’ll need you to coordinate all of the girls. I have the stations set up by the tech guys, but to be honest they’re not really the best at working with people. Everyone has their skill sets. Dawn, I’m not looking to start a circus here, but the fact of the matter is that there is a great deal of money on the line for these women. I’m doing my best to filter them out, but some are going to slip through. Tensions will be high, and I need someone with a gentle touch to keep things in line.”

  “Alright, well I’ll do my best.”

  “Great.” He clapped his hands together “Zach here will show you around, get you familiar with everything.”

  Cartwright had her so busy the time flew by. That afternoon she coordinated the installation of the testing systems and reviewed the media going out across the city. It seemed larger than life, and when she slipped into bed at the end of the long day she found herself wondering if it would work. Would anyone even show up? It had the potential to be a massive flop, and more than a little embarrassing to her client.

  “Billionaire Anthony Cartwright seeking his perfect woman. Could it be you?”

  Ha.

  The parking lot was packed. Seattle seemed to be practically leaking beautiful women. They came in shuttles and taxis… the sidewalk was crowded for blocks. Everywhere you could hear the *clack* of high heels and the chirping of excited friends.

  Pulling into her reserved space Dawn felt her heart drop.

  The morning was like a warzone. It took every bit of her considerable skills to keep the ship sailing, but sail it did. By lunch she had managed to put a shocking number of girls through the simple algorithmic software with only a few hiccups. There was a power outage that sent Cartwright spiraling into her office, a whirlwind of anxiety and kind hearted pecking. He seemed more interested in watching Dawn solve the situation than jumping in himself, but she could tell that it was nearly killing him.

  Then she realized that his legs were shaking. That was a first.

  A few new power sources and a reset breaker later and everything were back to normal. By 1PM they had logged the results for an impressive 12,000 women. All in all things were going well.

  At lunch things were almost half quiet and Dawn pulled the tablet she had forgotten from her purse. She turned it on with a swipe, leaving a half circle of dressing from her Italian sub. She nervously wiped it away and opened the survey app with a smile.

  “Would you rather dance naked in the rain, or walk across a frozen lake?”

  What the fuck?

  She chose her answer and moved on to the next question and before long lunch was over and she had answered all one hundred.

  “Thank you for your interest.” The test flashed quickly, snapping her out of the daze. She started to notice crowds again and shot out of her seat.

  The afternoon was a little more complicated. The tests had been relatively easy, but organizing the girls into a line for Cartwright’s inspection was tedious. Many of the girls were… difficult.

  “I can’t stand in the sun for longer than 20 minutes; it will mess up my complexion!”

  “You’d think he’d be able to afford a cuter attendee.”

  “Can you get me a drink?”

  “You know, when I’m Mrs. Cartwright I’m going to make sure you never work again, bitch!” one tall, and stunningly beautiful woman spat at her.

  The lines were starting to thin when Dawn made her way backstage to the interviewing area. Cartwright had 6 rooms setup to speed process. They were all intricately designed and gorgeous, featuring a humble two top table and a two way mirror for monitoring and data collection. Behind the mirror stood a near crowd, and Dawn wondered how many girls would have an outright panic attack if they knew. To the right Cartwright’s security stood grumbling. The powerful black man had insisted on being in the room.

  “You’re going to meet over a thousand people. Do you know what kind of vulnerabilities that opens you up to? It only takes-“

  “No.” Cartwright had said firmly, and he had been right. Nothing can kill a date faster than a six-foot-six ex-soldier assessing you for threats. Even if the date only was sixty seconds.

  Inside Cartwright shook a hand, stood and made his way back to Dawn.

  “What do you think about that one?” he asked.

  Dawn looked. It was the woman who called her a bitch, earlier.

  “She told me when you two finally get married that she was going to fire me.”

  His eyebrows shot up.

  “For being a bitch.” Dawn added.

  They both broke into laughter, and Dawn was glad after the long day.

  When the day was he helped the staff stack the last few rows of chairs, finished an invoice and went to find Cartwright. He was in back, his feet on the desk that had been his makeshift command center for the day. An open bottle of scotch sat just out of reach, and having only known the man a few hours Dawn could still tell he was upset.

  He seemed totally drained of his normal energy. His tie hung loose around the collar of his shirt and he fiddled with one of his tablets.

  “Uh oh.” Dawn said, taking a few cautious steps into the room and setting her purse on the table.

  “There’s nothing here.” He said, tossing the tablet onto the desk and rubbing his temples.

  “Keep at it boss. You’ll find someone.”

  “Ten thousand girls, probably two hundred interviews… and absolutely nothing.

  “Well if you’re looking for a girl who is one-in-a-million you’re going to have to do this about a hundred more times.”

  He sighed.

  “And there’s no one you haven’t seen yet?” she asked.

  He shook his head ‘no’, but picked up the tablet anyways.

  “That’s weird…” he said to himself after a scrolling through the data. “The top result is coded.”

  “Coded?”

  “Yea… technically the tests need to be anonymous; otherwise it violates some sort of human testing law. I don’t know, the lawyers explained it to me. But still… the software should have identified the match with a name after the scoring for easy review.”

  “So you can’t figure out who it is?”

  He shook his head “No, I just need to…” he tapped the screen again, inspected it, and then typed something “enter the code into the database and…”

  H
is eyes went wide at what he saw. He looked up at Dawn, back at the tablet, then at Dawn again. A smile crept across his face and he slid the tablet across to her.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She said “Is this some sort of joke?”

  He stood, a new light in his eyes.

  “Come on.” He said, holding out his hand.

  She took it and let him lead her to one of the interview rooms. The hallways of the big center were nearly empty now, and the lights made loud metallic clanks as they switched off for the day. The interview room was decorated like some quaint Italian café and stepping inside gave the mind a reeling sense of change and travel.

  He gestured at a chair and then he sat across from her. They glanced around then back at each other, a long pause before they broke into laughter again.

  “So tell me about yourself.” He finally said.

  “Uh.” She mumbled.

  “You’ll have to do better than that!” he said playfully.

  “And who says I want to. I never signed up for your contest! Tell me about yourself.”

  “Oh I’m just a guy who works too much and can’t get a date. “

  “Self-pity as an opening line? I guess it’s not surprising!”

  He laughed again, and she almost thought she could see the tension of the day’s disappointment leaving his face.

  “No one else talks to me like that.” He said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like an equal. Like you aren’t applying for a job.”

  “I already got the job.”

  His eyes narrowed and his smile became telling. He examined her for a long moment.

  “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  Her heart raced. He hadn’t invited a single one of the day’s applicants to a second date. Was he serious?

  She laughed, and he raised an eyebrow.

  “But I haven’t passed the test.” She said. Her white teeth contrasted with her red lipstick making her look devilish.

  “Is that a no?” he asked.

  “You were very specific about your qualifications, Mr. Cartwright. The process was perfect!”

  “Well you’re my event manager, what are we missing?”

  “Well I’ve taken your test.”

 

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